GARAGE GAMES

On a cold winter's day, with the wind cutting deep,

Kevin and Chuck in the garage, no plans to keep.

On pinconning Road, where the quiet runs wild,

They sparked an idea, a game-born child.

A token of smoke drifted up to the beams,

Their boredom dissolved in the warmth of team schemes.

Cornhole, washers, a ring toss or two,

"Let’s sit, take a shot—tequila will do."

Garage games, where the frost don't bite,

Friends gather 'round on these long cold nights.

Bring your A-game and your money too,

Chuck won't stand to lose—no, he’ll come after you.

They hammered some nails, hung a dartboard up high,

With laughter and cheer echoing the sky.

One by one, their friends rolled through,

Beer in their hands, with stories to spew.

Chuck’s mid-throw, says, "Loser's gotta buy,

Don't come at me weak, now give it a try."

Kevin just chuckles, sips from his flask,

Winning isn't easy, but it's all in the task.

Garage games, where the frost don't bite,

Friends gather 'round on these long cold nights.

Bring your A-game and your money too,

Chuck won't stand to lose—no, he’ll come after you.